


When the Time Comes

by not_yet_defined



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-10
Updated: 2018-02-10
Packaged: 2019-03-16 10:18:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13634298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/not_yet_defined/pseuds/not_yet_defined
Summary: MC death, but only because everyone dies eventually. Far in the future, and not about pain and sorrow.





	When the Time Comes

The day Brian dies is nothing like what he imagined. He doesn't depart in a blaze of glory, the way he always thought he would when he was younger. He doesn't take one too many illicit drugs. He doesn't have a heart attack while buried deep in Justin's ass, the way he's been convinced he would go for the last several years. He isn't in a hospital hooked up to machines experiencing the slow painful death of cancer, which he always secretly feared. Nothing so dramatic like that happens. He is just sitting at his desk at Kinnetik, reading an email from Emmett, who is extolling the virtues of his current place of residence in Miami, and trying to persuade Brian and Justin to visit. He insists it's not a retirement community, although he admits it is full of old queens. 

Brian thinks about how he wouldn't be caught dead at a retirement community, but Justin hates the weather this time of year and a couple of weeks in a penthouse suite with a view of the ocean might be nice. At the back of his mind he registers pain in his chest and his arm, but like all the other random aches and pains he sadly seems to experience daily as he ages, he ignores it, and clicks "Reply". 

A couple moments later he is looking at his body, slumped over his desk.

 _Well. Fuck me_ , he thinks.

"Not what you expected?"

"Not remotely."

"It never is. Still. It's not a bad way to go at all. No drawn out goodbyes. No tears. No drama."

"I'd have rather been fucking Justin," Brian sighs.

He is relieved that Vic is the one who has come for him. He doesn't think he is ready to face Michael, or Debbie, or anyone else who might have come to get him with far more dramatics. Death is shocking enough, fuck you very much.

"It might have been nice for you, but what a terrible thing to do to Justin. He might never have had sex again."

"What a waste of a fantastic ass that would be. Still. If I'd known tomorrow he'd be waking up with out me, I might have at least initiated a morning blowjob. He's probably still asleep." 

Brian thinks about the sleepily mumbling tuft of blond and gray hair he'd bent over and kissed on his way out the door this morning. He thinks about last night when he'd gone into the studio and watched Justin work on a painting for a few minutes before Justin realized he was there. The smell of paint, the vivid colors staining his clothes, hands and left earlobe, the intensely focused way he worked - it never failed to make Brian's dick hard, even though this scene had played out at least a thousand times before in the years they'd been together. 

They'd gone up to bed. When Brian came Justin's legs were wrapped around his waist, a mixture of sweat and Justin's come was drenching his stomach and his chest, and Justin's open mouth was pressed against his shoulder. Brian drifted off to sleep still running his fingers through Justin's hair, knowing his life was exactly what he wanted it to be. 

Brian thinks about all of this and decides that if he'd been able to orchestrate the last twenty-four hours of his life, there is little that he would change. The everyday, ordinary routines of life with Justin were anything but.

Finally he is able to turn away from the scene before him and look at Vic. He is surprised to find a very youthful, handsome man standing before him. He looks like the Vic he first met when he was only 14.

"You look hot, Vic."

"Thank you. It's one of the perks of the afterlife. People seem to see you the way they like to remember you. You get to see yourself that way too, more or less."

Brian quirks an eyebrow at Vic, "Well? How the fuck do I look then?"

Vic smiles, "Just like I remember you the last time I saw you."

"You couldn't have remembered me younger? I was already in my thirties when you died."

"I prefer to see you as you were once I finally knew you'd be alright."

"Well, at least I was still unbelievably hot and had an amazing body. I wonder what I look like to me."

They are still in his office, so he wanders off towards his private bathroom. He imagines he will look the way he did when he was 25 - young and beautiful, perfectly brown hair, everything tight and trim.

He's more than a decade off. In the mirror before him he recognizes the man he was the year Justin moved back home for good. Through the open door he can still see his body. He looks back in the mirror and grins. Late thirties maybe, but still young. Still beautiful. He wonders how he looks to Justin. Shit. Justin.

Vic has moved to the couch now. Brian falls down beside him, leaning his head back against the white leather, fixing his eyes on ceiling. 

"I hope they don't just call him on the phone. He wouldn't want to hear it like that. Maybe Gus will drive out to the house and tell him. That would be best. Fuck."

He watches as Cate, Kinnetik's CFO, passes by his office. She must catch the slumped body through the glass windows, because she abruptly turns and runs towards it. She calls his name, shakes him, checks his pulse, but finds no life.

Vic stands up and gently lays his hand on Brian's shoulder, "We can go now."

Brian hesitates to stand and follow, watching as Cate dials 911 even though she knows it won't do any good.

"He'll be ok, Brian." 

He watches his daughter-in-law take a few deep breathes, swipe at her eyes, and compose herself. She takes her cell out of her pocket and calls Gus. 

Brian is transfixed, but he doesn't hear what she is saying. He doesn't need to. Or maybe doesn't want to.

"Cate will take care of Gus. And Gus will take care of Justin. Both your boys will be fine."

Brian knows this is true. Gus is a rock. The product of a family filled with love. And Justin. Even if Justin had no one to take care of him, he'd be fine. It's who he is.

"I hope Emmett convinces him to move down to Miami. Warm weather. Molly close by in Orlando..."

Finally he stands, walking towards Vic.

"...Plenty of older men," Brian continues somewhat halfheartedly.

"Well he does like them older, and you did say an ass like Justin's shouldn't go to waste."

"It really shouldn't. At his age, it's a fucking miracle to still have an ass like that. Christ. Hopefully there are at least a few studs that can still get it up. "

"Well if Emmett is enjoying the place so much, there must be one or two at least. If not, I'm sure there is thriving black market of little blue pills."

Brian snickers, remembering the only time he ever took one. The smirk disappears though, when his eyes meet Vic's. 

"Ready kid?"

Surprisingly, he thinks he is, but saying yes almost feels like a betrayal. 

"Don't worry. You'll see him again, before you know it."

A faint smile dances across Brian's lips. He isn't worried. Justin would come after him eventually, no matter where he went. And he can wait. After all, it's only time.


End file.
